I was all set for a good night’s sleep; all four pups were in bed and a chorus of overlapping snoring had begun. All the electrics were turned off, the doors were locked and the alarm was on. I just had to brush my teeth, collapse into bed and surrender to my fatigue.
Whimper. Whimper. Cry.
It was coming from Poppy’s crate. “Please Poppy, not now” I whispered, hoping that I’d merely disturbed her and that she’d soon settle back down.
Whimper. Whimper. Cry.
“Ignore it for a just a couple of minutes more and see if it stops” I thought.
Whimper. Whimper. Cry.
It was a little louder this time, more insistent, and I knew she wasn’t going to settle.
“OK, I’ll let you out for one more garden visit, but make it quick!”. As I was about to be reminded, that’s exactly the kind of thing you don’t want to say to a female Beagle when you’re desperate for bed. On went the lights, off went the alarm, and doors where unlocked. Poppy trotted out into the garden with some haste so I was hopeful that this was a legitimate and necessary toilet outing. She disappeared from view as she went down the steps, and I waited. Sleep was creeping over me and I started swaying on my feet, so I figured I would keep myself busy until she came back. I picked up a cup and couple of teaspoons and popped them into the dishwasher, then peered through the door to check if I could see The Popster, but the LED lights in the kitchen were overwhelming the ambient light outdoors and I couldn’t make out anything in the lower part of the garden. Whatever Poppy was doing, she wasn’t ready to come back in yet.
Looking for something else to do to stay awake, I started going through a short kicking routine – about the only the thing I’ve kept going from my Karate days. I got through the front kicks quickly, and there was no Poppy. I worked through some slow side kicks, but still she hadn’t made it back. I went to the door, opened it briefly and called to her, carefully balancing the volume level so that it would reach Poppy’s ears (hopefully) without disturbing the neighbors. I saw no movement, save for a few midges and other night-time insects bouncing off the door glass. I didn’t want to go out there to get nibbled, so I resolved to give my girly a couple more minutes. I started on back kicks to kill the time; they’re a risky venture in a confined space with various breakables on the worktops, doubly-so in my half-conscious state, but still I had to stay awake until Poppy was back in the house, so.. desperate measures for desperate times and all that. I got through ten reps on each leg without accidentally hitting anything, but Poppy was still AWOL.
Finally I’d hit my limit; that naughty little girl was coming in whether she was ready or not, and if I had to get nibbled by the midges, well so be it. I stuffed my feet into my garden clogs and marched out of the door. I didn’t have to go far before I found her – she was lying on the lawn have a merry little chew session with a cow hoof.
“Oi! Poppy! Get in now!”
She looked at me with an innocent “what?” expression, then picked up her hoof and trotted quickly and obediently into the kitchen. I followed her, and saw her heading out of the kitchen and down the corridor towards our bedroom, still carrying her hoof. “Fair enough” I thought, “she can have her hoof in her crate if she wants”. I locked the door, primed the alarm and turned off the lights. When I got to the bedroom I bent down to check she was in her crate, but it was empty. I checked around the bed and in the bathroom but wherever she was, Poppy wasn’t here. “The little bugger’s doubled back!” I muttered to myself, trying not to wake Susan or disturb any of the other Beaglets.
On went the lights and off went the alarm again. I found Poppy on a sofa in the lounge, still chewing away on her hoof. “Right missus, your number’s up” I told her. I confiscated the hoof and – taking no more chances – scooped her up in my arms. Alarm on again, lights off again, and Poppy deposited back in her crate with the door locked securely behind her. Time, at long last, for bed! I expected to fall asleep immediately, but for one thing I was too stimulated and for another I fully expected another Beagle to pipe up, requesting his or her own midnight adventure. That didn’t happen fortunately, and eventually the rhythmic pack snoring dispatched me to the land of nod.